


Proud

by uncouth_peasant



Series: Make Them Proud [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Arena, Broken Bone, Child Death, Dismemberment, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt No Comfort, I made a big bad alien, I’m so mean to our blue boi sorry, I’m so sorry., Lance (Voltron) Captured, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, Nothing terribly graphic. But ow., Protective Lance (Voltron), Sad Ending, Swearing, Team only mentioned, The angst fic that no one, Torture, Violence, Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: A Memoir by Me, ambiguous timeline, author included, ever asked for, graphic description of big bad, its the Arena not a picnic, mentions of dislocated limbs, no fluff sorry, ra ra rasputin melted in a pile of steam, read carefully, then this conservative Baptist gave him a BIBLICAL name whooo, this ones dark guys, youll understand soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncouth_peasant/pseuds/uncouth_peasant
Summary: Lance meets a human boy in the Arena.There are no innocents in war. No one gets away unscathed.
Relationships: Lance & Coran & Hunk & Keith & Allura & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Lance (Voltron) & Original Character(s)
Series: Make Them Proud [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008024
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	Proud

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know where this came from. I really don’t. I was having a great day- my English teacher was like “I love reading your writing!” and my brain went “let’s make ourselves cry”
> 
> Please please avoid if you are at all bothered by dark themes. There is nothing underage, and there is no suicide. But this is a dark fic. There is no happy ending. 
> 
> Enjoy?

It wasn’t often anymore that Lance thought of himself as young. Most days he felt old; far, far too old to be the mere seventeen he was.

Funny what a chaotic war against temperamental purple space furries with God-complexes did to one’s perception of age.

But right now, his youth is all Lance can think of.

He’s too young for this.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

He shouldn’t be here- hell,  _ no one _ should be here.

Least of all  _ him _ .

Lance clutches the shaking form in his arms closer, trying to stifle a cough so as to not disturb his charge.

The Galra had taken a  _ child _ .

A  _ fucking child. _

A child that wasn’t going to survive the night if help didn’t come soon.

There was too much blood.

Lance buries his head in the child’s hair, tears hitting the fair head without his permission as a song from home rumbles in the teen’s throat.

This is all his fault. 

***

A mission three movements ago had gone South. Lance ended up taking a hit for the Green Lion. The blast had hit Red square in the head, sending them both to the base of the nearest planet with the screams of Lance’s teammates ringing in his ears. He’d awoken with a sullen “ow” and ever since he’d been relatively left alone in the Galran base. There had been no sign of Voltron. Lance’s only consolidation so far had been the lack of any other humans in the base.

Then he met the boy.

Lance met him in the Arena--that’s where he was being held, Lance realized with a start. The  _ Arena. _ The same place Shiro had been held for a year. That’s where he found Cooper. Small, quaking, with big brown eyes and light blond hair and fair skin already bruised and pale.

It was a human child. Lance didn’t want to imagine what had happened to the boy’s family. He couldn’t be more than seven, at the most. He’d stuttered out his name and a small plea for help as he passed Lance in the holding cell at the bottom of the Arena entrance. Lance had fought, then, bucking and trying to trip the Galrans holding his arms captive behind his back.

They were going to make Cooper fight in the Arena.

Cooper would die in the Arena.

Lance knew it. He raved and roared, desperate to get the Galrans to let the boy go  _ take me- I’ll fight! Let him go! _

They’d sent him in with Cooper instead. Not before another Galra had snickered and jammed a needled into Lance’s neck. He’d leaned down and whispered “ _ wouldn’t want you dying on us, Paladin. At least, not before things actually get interesting.” _

Whatever it was, it worked. 

Lance took every hit he could, roaring  _ get behind me, Cooper. Get behind me! You’ll be okay! _

The boy had tried to help, chucking little rocks he could find at the monster. It didn’t do much, but Lance found himself grinning despite the situation. This kid… reminded him of his family. He had Pidge’s spunk. He had Keith’s stubbornness. He had Shiro’s courage. He had Hunk’s heart. 

Lance grit his teeth, twirling the sad excuse for a melee weapon the Galrans had given him as punishment for speaking out of turn.

The alien in front of him was… a monster.

Lance had seen many species, learned what the limits were for judging a book by its cover.

But Lance knew this brute. They called him Rapture. He had no conscience, no weaknesses, no rules, and no limits. He was an unstoppable force of rage and pain and destruction. Lance had seen broken bodies dragged by him to the tune of distant voices cheering  _ “ _

Rapture was a bulbous alien of pure muscle and sinew. He had a ring of eyes around what Lance supposed was his head. Four limbs as thick as oak trees strained and bulged with every calculated movement (because  _ Dios _ forbid Lance get to face off against the  _ dumb _ alien war machine). Claws raked the ground with every step, and Rapture’s spiked tail split the ground wherever he slammed it. Large, twisted horns protruded from his nasty forehead and dripped with things Lance didn’t want to even begin thinking about.

The same was true with the massive maw full of row upon row of crooked, razor-sharp, possibly venomous, teeth.

Cooper, still behind Lance thankfully, cried out a warning just in time.

Well,  _ almost _ just in time.

Lance reacted a moment too late, Rapture catching the exhausted Paladin’s left leg in his huge maw and slinging the Paladin a fair distance away.

Lance didn’t have a chance to scream before he knew that the leg-- _ Dios, his  _ leg--was gone.

Cooper screamed, though. Cooper cried Lance’s name in pure terror. Lance rolled on the blood-stained sand, seeing through blurry vision as Rapture advanced oh so slowly on the terrified child.

Lance didn’t see what happened next. All he knew was blinding fear and rage pumping through his veins. One second he was bleeding on the ground, the next he was launching himself on one leg toward the monster, screaming bloody murder. 

Rapture stiffened, then, and whipped around to face Lance.

Cooper caught the end of Rapture’s tail and hit the wall behind him with a choked cry that set Lance’s blood on  _ fire. _

The instant he was in range, Lance lurched forwards and grasped onto Rapture’s left horn. His hands burned and slipped on ooze coating the beast, but he gripped tighter, bracing his leg in one nearby eye and  _ pulling. _

Rapture  _ roared, _ flailing about and doing everything in his power to dislodge the stubborn Paladin. Lance feels something in his arm pop the moment he--and Rapture’s horn-- went soaring.

The stadium fell oddly quiet as Rapture slumped forward, completely falling to the ground. The wound where his horn had once been oozed and pulsed far beyond what it ever should have.

Lance paid the slowly deflating creature no mind, instead dragging himself to the crumpled form of Cooper. He pressed a shaking hand to the boy’s neck, desperately feeling for a pulse.

A broken sob of relief was all the battered Paladin could muster at the movement of life beneath his fingers.

Lance ignored his leg, refusing to look at it, while he pulled Cooper into his arms. One was likely dislocated, but whatever the Galrans had injected with held strong, and Lance didn’t bother thinking about the consequences of continuing to use an injured arm because  _ dammit Cooper needed a hug and so did Lance at this point. _

Cooper stirred ever so slightly as Lance held him close, making sure that when his eyes opened, they wouldn’t be on the gruesome scene before them.

Rapture was... Having a moment.

It sort of reminded Lance of the end of _ Anastasia _ ? Where Rasputin just sort of… nopes into a puddle?

Yeah, that’s what was happening here.

Only with a lot more roaring and wailing as Rapture soaked into the sand.

Cooper made a small sound, moving to turn around. Lance hushed him quietly, bracing his hand against Cooper’s head to prevent him from looking.

“You don’t want to look, buddy,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

“Is he dead?” the little boy whispered back.

Lance bit his lip. “Yea,” he said finally. “Yeah. He is.”

“‘M sorry,” Cooper choked out. “‘S my fault, isnn’it?”

The crowd was yelling now,  _ furious _ that Lance had managed to kill their favorite fighter. There were soldiers advancing now, Lance could see the scowls on their faces.

Lance closed his eyes slowly, trying to ignore the tears burning them as he ran a hand through the boy’s matted hair. “No, no,” he soothed. “None of this is your fault, okay, Buddy?”

“But you’re hurt!”

“Me? Psh, I’m fine. Listen,” he said suddenly, “the bad guys are coming back. They’re going to walk you and I to our cells, okay?  _ Do. Not. Fight them, _ okay buddy.”

“But-”

“Please, Cooper,” Lance begged, making eye contact with the boy. He thumbed away a tear racing down the young face with a small smile. “Your safety is all that matters here, buddy.”

“You’ll be okay?” he asked, one little eyebrow raising adorably.

“I promise,” Lance promised. He looked up at the guards as they finally reached the pair.

One of them roughly yanked Cooper from Lance’s arms, and Lance dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out and locking the child back in his embrace, away from darkness and Galra and pain.

But if he did that, they’d only hurt Cooper more and Lance couldn’t handle that.

So he sits quietly, regarding the head Galran with a cool stare.

“Stand, Paladin.”

“I’d love to,” Lance returned blithely, “but that’s going to be a  _ bit _ of a problem, no?”

Lance looked down at his leg-- _ Dios his leg is gone what is he going to  _ do-- with a sarcastic sneer, enjoying the way the Galran’s face twists angrily.

But rather than return what Lance was sure would have been a  _ fascinating _ conversation, the Galran instead nods to the third of his compatriots before walking off. 

Said third Galran took two strides forward, jerked Lance up off the ground, and slung Lance over his shoulder. Lance was not a fan of this, though it did mean he could see and hear Cooper if he strained his neck enough.

Silent tears rolled down the child’s face, though Lance could see his jaw clenched, determined to not give any more than the Galra had already taken from him.

Lance was torn between being proud of the kid and being terrified at how the Galra dragging Cooper along didn’t seem to appreciate how brave the boy was being.

Right at that moment, however, the Galra carrying Lance stopped abruptly and Lance ended slamming his chin into the Galran’s plate armor.

_ Ow. _

After stepping into a dark, rank room, Lance was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor with a muffled thud.

Lance collected himself just in time to see a terrified Cooper being taken out of sight of the quickly closing cell door.

“Just do what they say, Cooper! Be careful! Don’t look for trouble!”

“Lance!” a young voice cried out.

“You’ll be okay, buddy! Just don’t fight!”

Lance couldn’t hear what Cooper said in return, if he said anything at all. All the Paladin could do was drag himself against the wall and wait for whatever was to come.

***

“L-lan-ce,” Cooper chatters out. “I’mm co-cold.”

“I know, buddy.” Lance hums a little louder, rocking back and forth a bit to try and take Cooper’s mind away from the cell they’re in. He’s not sure if it fully works, but Cooper relaxes more into his touch, so he’ll take the win. 

***

“I see Rapture did quite the number on you, Paladin,” a husky voice called out after far too long in silence in Lance’s opinion. It’s another Galra (shocking! Wow!) leering over Lance with a knowing smirk.

Lance said nothing, choosing instead to look away. Floors are absolutely  _ fascinating  _ in the right context.

Leer-y didn’t like that, growling slightly before raising his massive foot and  _ slamming _ it down on Lance’s remaining leg. The room echoes with a sickening crack.

His world dimmed for a moment, Lance unable to breathe, think, unable to  _ see _ through the haze of pain and shock registering right now. It all comes rushing back in an instant and he  _ screams  _ at the utter agony tearing through his abused body. The Galran’s nerve blocking serum--Lance heard some soldiers discussing it as they passed his cell--was beginning to wear off. A small, knobby alien had come in shortly after Lance and Cooper were separated. The alien made quick work of tending to Lance’s leg and other wounds. Lance only broke his silence to scream through clenched teeth as his shoulder was jerked back into place. The alien blinked sympathetically in apology before they injected Lance with a quick explanation of “prevents shock” before scurrying out.

Lance gasped, scrabbling at the ground beneath him, trying to force himself to remain conscious through the pain. Leer grinned savagely as he stood, almost aloof, in the middle of the room. 

“My bad,” he simpered. Lance wheezed a breath through bound ribs--Rapture could fucking  _ hit. _

“Fuck you,” he hissed. The Galran snarled, taking a threatening step closer. Lance forced himself to not flinch, rather he looked up at the Galran challengingly.

He was a  _ fucking Paladin of Voltron.  _ No way was he submitting to this asshole.

He’d make them proud.

“Tell me, Paladin,” Leer-y started nonchalantly, “are you worried about your team yet?”

“What?” The Galran took a knife from his belt and began cleaning beneath scraggly fingernails while Lance frantically tried to get a hold of himself. He was playing with Lance, yeah. But there was a note of truth to his words.

Lance was terrified something had happened.

“Well, usually we capture one of you cockroaches and by the end of a quintant, your team has arrived and saved their Paladin in Peril. I’m not sure how well you’ve kept track,” Leer dropped down in a crouch, pointing at Lance with his knife, “but you’ve been here for nearly 21. Aren’t you wondering where your team is?” Leer-y’s eyes widened innocently, and Lance looked away angrily.

“I mean,” he continued, “surely they would have come by now… they always have for your compatriots.” Mock realization dawned in Leer-y’s rumbling sneer. “Unless they never intended to. Oh!” he gasped, “Don’t despair, dear Paladin. I’m sure your team will be here  _ any  _ minute to rescue you!”

Lance said nothing, eyes burning in the silence.

“Until then, we have plenty of ways to… occupy you.”

***

Cooper coughs quietly in Lance’s grasp, shifting uneasily.

“Lance,” he rasps. “Where’s your family?” 

Lance freezes, unsure of what to say. Does he tell the boy about Cuba? 

No. That’s a story for when they get out of here. They both need something to hope for.

What’s more hopeful than Lance’s Space Family?

“Well,” he starts softly, “my family isn’t like most people’s. There’s seven of us in the Space Family.”

“‘Space family’?” Cooper giggles, Lance trying to ignore the pained tears that leak from his big eyes afterward. 

“Yup! There’s Shiro--he’s  _ so _ cool. We all call him Space Dad. He’s a little grumpy sometimes, but he’ll join in our movie night blanket forts and make  _ everyone _ donate pillows and blankets to the cause.” Lance doesn’t fight his watery smile as he sees Cooper’s strained features relax at the mention of a blanket fort. 

_ “Everyone?” _

“Everyone. Even Keith! And Keith doesn’t even sit in the blanket fort because he’s  _ lame!” _

***

Torture  _ sucked _ .

But somehow Lance was able to find solace in the fact that it sucked more for the Galra doing it because he had yet to get anything out of Lance.

It didn’t do much for his  _ everything _ right then and there, but Lance was at least glad that his day wasn’t the only shitty one on this hellhole.

_ Twenty-one quintants, _ Leer-y said.

_ Twenty-one quintants. _

No way. No way his team would leave him for twenty-one quintants.

Lance gingerly touched his jaw, already swelling. That would bruise  _ lovely _ .

He knew it had been that long. He kept track--why wouldn’t he?

But… to hear it said so… so mockingly… so bluntly.

Tears stung the Red Paladin’s eyes. At least they didn’t get Red. The universe couldn’t afford to have her in Galran hands.

But Lance would really like to not be in Galran hands either. Those hands hurt. Those hands were callous and uncaring. Those hands were  _ bad. _

“I don’t get why you insist on being so moronically stubborn, Paladin,” Leer-y grumbled, interrupting Lance’s thoughts. He lets his gaze lazily slide to the grumpy alien, a small smile lighting chapped lips. “Your friends aren’t coming. You have no hope of rescue. Your one chance- your  _ one chance-- _ is to give us what we ask for.” Leer-y took a step back, leaning casually against the only wall in the cell without at least a little bit of Lance’s blood on it. “You owe them nothing--they abandoned you, Paladin. Submit!”

“I’d rather die,” Lance snapped simply. For one oddly peaceful second, Lance thought the Galran was actually going to do it. “You and your leader’s fucking after-school club will fall. Voltron will see to that.”

Instead, his eyes narrowed in a victorious way Lance  _ very much _ did not like nor trust. 

“I don’t consider myself a cruel general by any means.” Lance shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where the conversation was headed. “But I know of at least one thing you value you more than yourself. Haxtick!” he snaps out. 

The door behind the General opened slowly, painfully.

A ridiculously bulky Galran stood in the doorway, a small charge held still beneath a meaty fist.

“Cooper!” Lance choked out, lurching forward in spite of his own aches. The boy looked  _ terrified, _ a small gasp escaping his lips. 

“Lance!” he cried softly. Lance’s eyes widened.

“I’m okay, buddy! I’m fine!”

“Oh yes,” Leer-y interrupted. “Don’t fear,  _ Cooper. _ Your friend here is going to be fine. Although, he’s made me very mad recently. See, he won’t answer my questions.” Lance watched with shaking shoulders as the Galran General took slow steps towards the petrified boy before crouching down in front of him. “Do you know what happens when someone doesn’t behave?”

A tear dripped down Cooper’s face. Lance growled, trying to think of a way out of here. 

Something bad was going to happen, Lance knew. Something to do with Cooper. He had to get Cooper out of there. He couldn’t be there to see this. No way could Lance allow it.

The Galran sighed at Cooper’s lack of response. “We punish them.”

“Hey,” Lance started breathlessly, “leave the kid out of this--this isn’t his fight. Whatever you’ve got planned, leave him out of this.”

“Oh no, Paladin,” the Galran shifted his focus away from the crying boy and pinned a penetrating, yellow stare on Lance. “I’m afraid that your little friend here is  _ very _ much a part of this fight. See, you  _ care _ about him, do you not?”

“Don’t. Whatever you’re going to do, don’t. Please. He’s innocent. Let him go back to his cell safely. Don’t bring him into this,  _ please.” _

“I’m not the one that involved him in this, Paladin,  _ you are. _ You’ve already made it clear that you don’t care what happens to you. But now I wonder: what about his life? How far would you go for him?”

“Lance?!” Cooper called out worriedly.

“Let him be.  _ Please. _ I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Don’t hurt him.”

For a blissful moment, Lance was sure that Leer-y had relented, that he was going to leave Cooper be.

Then: “Take him to the Arena.”

All the breath left Lance’s lungs.

_ What?! _

The Galra holding Cooper dragged the now deadly silent boy away from Lance’s cell. Away from  _ Lance. _

_ They were going to make Cooper fight in the Arena alone. _

_ They were going to make him fight. _

_ He was going to die. _

_ They knew he was going to die. _

“What are you doing?!” Lance roared. “Cooper! Cooper, I’ll come for you. Stay strong!”

“You can’t save him, Paladin,” the General noted over Lance’s screams. “No one can.”

“He’ll die in the Arena!” Lance cried. “He’s too young! He’s a child! He doesn’t know how to fight--he’s going to die!” Tears dripped down Lance’s face. “You- you  _ bastard!” _

“Awfully strong language, Paladin. You’d best watch yourself.”

“I told you that I’d submit! Why?! Why are you doing this?!”

The general lunged into Lance’s face, clutching the teen’s jaw in his hand. “Because  _ you _ need to understand to never go against the Galran empire. There is no limit to our retribution.”

“He didn’t do anything to you,” Lance whispered. His vision was blurry, the world spinning a bit around him. Everything hurt. He couldn’t breathe. Fresh wounds dripped and oozed unnoticed.

“Remember, Paladin. You could have stopped this.  _ You _ could have saved him.”

Lance sobbed as the door to his cell closed, leaving him alone to hear the distant chanting of a bloodthirsty audience.

***

  
  


“--When we’re bored, we go out into space in our  _ giant _ robot lions,” Lance is on a roll now, falling easily back into memories of the Castle, “and take down  _ bad guys _ like these purple losers.”

Cooper’s forehead scrunches up, deep in thought, above glassy, watery, eyes. “What colors... are th’ Lions?” 

Lance ghosts his hand over the sweaty brow, trying to soothe the boy as best he can. “My lion is Red. She’s  _ super  _ fast and really… cranky now that I think about it.” Lance waits for a laugh, but all he gets is a gentle vibration from the boy’s chest. He ignores it, continuing the story for Cooper’s sake. “See, she was first Keith’s Lion. But then our Space Dad disappeared and we couldn’t find  _ anyone _ else to lead Voltron! So, the Black Lion--we call her Black--was super cool and let Keith be the boss for a while. And you know what? He was pretty great at it too! When we finally got our Shiro back…”

***

Lance sat for hours, tears dripping silently down gaunt cheekbones. He hadn’t heard anyone pass by his cell. He hadn’t seen anyone.

He had no idea where Cooper was.

If the boy was even  _ alive _ still.

After what felt like a millennium, the cell doors to in front of Lance slammed open, a small form unceremoniously dumped just in front of Lance’s feet. He cried out upon recognizing the fair hair and forced his remaining leg to nudge the still form. A Galran hovered in the door--Leer-y, Lance realized after a moment.

“He needs help! We need bandages!”

“No, no I think not,” the general mused idly.

“He’ll die if you don’t. Then you’ll never get anything from me!” Lance called back, knowing that it was a gamble but also unable to think of anything else.

“Don’t you understand?” he chuckled, mouth curving into a sneer. “We don’t  _ need _ you, Paladin. You have no power. You’ve already made your point clear.”

“No, wai-”

“You are no longer our concern, Paladin. And neither is he.” Leer-y lightly kicked the bloody form on the ground in front of Lance. It doesn’t make a sound. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.

Lance bit back a helpless sound in the back of his throat as the door closed for what he knew was the last time.

“Cooper,” he whispered wetly. “Cooper, please wake up. Cooper,  _ please.”  _ The boy stirred then, bleary eyes opening to lock with Lance’s. 

“Lance,” Cooper sighed, a small smile on painfully chapped lips. “I found you.”

“Yeah, yeah, buddy. You found me. Can you move okay?” Lance asked, biting his lip to get a grip on himself. Cooper had seen enough. He didn’t need Lance breaking down in front of him. 

Cooper nodded hesitantly. “I- I think so.”

“That’s great, buddy. Think you can make it over to me?”

Something steeled in the young boy’s gaze as he nodded, making a slow, painful army crawl towards Lance’s open arms. 

The moment Cooper was within reach, Lance scooped the boy up with trembling arms and held him close. Cooper melted into the contact, burrowing into Lance’s shoulder as close as he dared.

“I’m so sorry, Buddy,” Lance whispered brokenly. “I’m so,  _ so  _ sorry.”

***   
  


That’s how they got here. Lance’s dumb ego and his dumb hero complex.

He was so  _ stupid  _ to think he could get out of this without hurting anyone.

What would his team say?

Cooper’s shudders have been growing less noticeable the longer he and Lance sit there. That or Lance’s are becoming more prominent.

It doesn’t matter which one it is. He knows they’re not both getting out of here. All Lance can do now is give as much as his warmth to Cooper as possible, try and make sure that he makes it until help arrives.

Because help  _ is _ coming.

His team won’t abandon Lance. He has to hold onto that- for Cooper’s sake.

He’d torn up the top piece of his tattered uniform to bind the marks on the boy. 

_ There are too many _ , he knows.    
  


He told the general that Cooper would die. He’d prayed he was wrong. But the grin in Leer-y’s eyes told Lance that the general agreed, and he was counting on it.

“Coop?” He asks the silence, his story trailing off as he notes the terrifying lack of response from the boy. “Coop, buddy, you with me?”

There’s no response. Lance lightly taps the cold cheek- it’s too cold. The room temperature had been steadily decreasing. Somewhere in the back of Lance’s mind, he realized that the Galran’s had cut off heat in their quadrant.

There would be no help from them. Not that Lance thought there would be--he’s not lucky enough to find a Blade member in this hellhole.

Lance coughs harshly, desperately trying to stay his chest for the child’s sake. Something warm and wet dribbles down his chin. Lance does his best to wipe it against his unoccupied shoulder.

He shivers then, imagining a soul like Keith’s having to work undercover here. No, he wouldn’t risk that on anyone.

Except… maybe for Cooper, yeah, he’s begging everyone he knows up there for help. Begging for someone to help them, someone to know where they are.

Cooper stirs slightly, groaning quietly.

“Hey, Coop,” Lance rubs the abused back, careful to not press too hard. “Don’t go to sleep, buddy. We might-” he chokes, “we might miss when my friends get here. We don’t want to do that.”

“N’ we do’t” the boy rasps. “Dad?”

Lance freezes, unsure what to do. “Buddy, no, it’s Lance. It’s me-”

“Daddy, I’m cold,” Cooper’s voice breaks on the words right along with Lance’s heart. 

Oh,  _ Dios. _

Lance licks his lip, pulling every piece of “Uncle Lance” this war has left in him. He blinks back tears, snuggling the boy so he can rest his head in the crook between Lance’s throbbing shoulder and neck. 

“I- I know, Coop. I know. But you need to stay awake for me, ok? Stay awake for your dad?”

“I can do that.” Lance feels the sigh on his exposed skin as the child inhales laboriously. 

That’s not good. They can’t do anything about it, but Lance’s stomach clenches worriedly at the realization all the same.

Soft plops of wet take Lance’s attention away from his inner thoughts. “Coop? Buddy?”

“Daddy m’so sorry,” Cooper sobs suddenly. 

Lance tightens his grip, tears dripping silently down his own cheeks.

“‘Tried to make you proud, Daddy. I tried  _ so hard.” _

“I’m-” Lance swallows hard. “I know, kiddo, I know. You did  _ so good _ out there.”

“Daddy don’t cry.” A small, shaking hand reaches up and ever so gently wipes a tear from Lance’s cheek. “Why are you crying?”

Another tear falls from Lance’s lashes. He can’t do this. Cooper is  _ dying _ in his arms.

He has to. He owes this to Cooper. Lance carefully reaches down to card his hand through Cooper’s light, matted bangs.

“I’m so  _ proud _ of you, kiddo. That’s- that’s why I’m crying.”

“‘M sorry I made you sad,” he whispers. “I didn’t mea’ to.”

“No, no, Coop. You did  _ everything  _ so well, buddy. I’m not sad. I promise. I’m- I’m  _ happy.  _ I’m really proud of you buddy. I’m so… it’s going to be okay. You did it.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I could never be sad with you.”

Cooper’s stopped shivering, just lays limply against the teen. Lance presses a careful kiss to the top of his forehead. 

“Please don’t leave me, Daddy.”

“Never, Coop.  _ Never. _ Just hold on with me, okay? Help’s coming, buddy. Please. Please hold on.” Lance can see breath now, his eyes drooping tiredly.

“Tired, Daddy,” Cooper breathes. “Wanna sleep.”

“Coop, no buddy. You gotta stay awake.  _ Please _ .”

“...love ‘ou.”

“Cooper?”

There isn’t a response. Lance holds tighter, careful to not hurt the boy. “Cooper, please answer me, buddy.”

Nothing.

“Please don’t leave me now, buddy.  _ Please.  _ Help is coming--my family is coming. They’ll get us out. They’re gonna… they’re gonna be so excited to meet you, Coop. They’re going to  _ love you. _ But you gotta stay… _ please. Please stay.” _

Lance doesn’t have the energy to cry anymore. He stares, brokenly, at the wall across from him; at the door that never opened. He hates that door. Nothing good happens where that door is involved. 

He buries his head in Cooper’s hair, imagining that he can still feel the boy shake. 

“They’re coming, Coop. I promise. Shiro and Keith and Hunk and Pidge and Allura and Coran. They’re coming for us, buddy. We just need to… to hold on until then. They’ll come.”

It’s too cold. Everything hurts. Lance can’t do it. 

He knows he should be concerned that he’s not shaking anymore, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He has to hold on. Cooper needs him.

_ Cooper doesn’t need Lance anymore- _ -no. He promised Coop he’d stay with him.

It’s becoming harder and harder to force his eyes open. 

“...they’ll come. Just you wait.”

“Love you guys. Tell my family hi,” Lance breathes into the silence. Distantly, in his mind, the Red Paladin registers a desperate Lion’s roar. A voice crying for more time. He sends as much love as he can think to toward the roar.

“Sorry… guys…”

***

When a blazing purple hand tears the door down, it’s too late.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not crying. Nope. 
> 
> I debated writing the teams reaction but NOPE. Nope we’re not going there. 
> 
> I’m sorry. I really am. 
> 
> On the bright side, this is my most concise fic so far! Only 4866 words! I’m taking the win. 
> 
> Oh and I finally learned how to properly use this “—“ stupid thing so that’s fun. 
> 
> Let me know if I missed any tags. And, uh, feel free to yell at me? I love looking at my email and finding messages from you guys. 
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> Peasant Out


End file.
